At first, all I could see was bleary darkness and black, but soon I realised I was on my living room floor, sprawled out between millions of boxes that lay cluttered everywhere. It was moving day, the day I had been dreading for months. When me and my friend had decided to move in together, we had also decided the flat was too small, so I had been packing boxes to get into the moving van.

All the boxes were sealed tightly and in the corner of the room, except from one. Getting up slowly, I pulled the box towards me and opened it. Inside were lots of photos from when I was three all the way till Yoongi left. There weren't many pictures in the box, and they were all quite small. The first one was a three year old me, and a four year old boy standing in the corner of the image. My hair was in small curls that hung around my shoulder, glossy blonde. I seemed to have sunglasses on, and was sitting atop of the tree.

I remembered that day, I wouldn't stop crying till my family gave me sunglasses. The next one was of me and Yoongi, both around six years old. We were at a sort of restaurant, eating noodles. For once in his lifetime, he was smiling as he ate, his black hair very neat, look perfect next to me. I had food splattered all over me, and my hair was tousled up in a party hat. All the photos were very worn down and hadn't been touched for ages.

There were about four photos left, so I took the next one out, I was ten years old and riding a bike, Yoongi standing next to me. He was on a bike too, but seemed to be trying to help me. I was wobbling dangerously, a look of fear on my face as I rode, while Yoongi was holding onto the bike from the back. He still had his neat, black hair and still expression. As I took out the next one, the story started unfolding beneath my eyes. We were both childhood friends, till we grew apart.

The next photo were both of us, as teenagers, around 15 years old. Somehow, we both haven't changed a bit. We sat, perched in a library, staring into books, Yoongi taking notes on it where I seemed to be doodling in the book, seeming to lose concentration. Yoongi had started getting interested in music at this point, and I had encouraged him a lot. The photo was taken at an angle, so you got a close up view of our faces.

The next photo made my heart drop a little bit. We were both seventeen, the time our friendship started losing faith. The photo had been taken as a selfie, so it was a close up view of my face, so you could see Yoongi practicing music in the background, at this point my hair had been dyed black with blue tips, as Yoongi associated with being wild and lacking, but I could tell he liked it.

The last photo made my heart plummet. It was the last time I had seen Yoongi for five years. He had told me he was leaving, but he didn't tell me the reason. He promised to stay in touch with me, but he didn't. Yoongi replied to a few emails, but then he drifted away, to never be talked to again. The photo was very dark, the moments he had told me he was going. We were both posed in the city, and he had been walking away, looking back at the camera. His face seemed ghostly pale, and you could see me slightly, black hair and wearing a hoodie, a tear dripping from my eye as it slowly splashed to the floor, creating a small pool.

I remember that night so vividly, and it went a bit like this..